All In The Family
by Riflow
Summary: You could run from someone you feared, you could try to fight someone you hated. All your reactions are geared toward those kinds of killers - the monsters, the enemies. HwoaJin Yaoi. AU.
1. The Edge

Author's Note: I've always wanted to write a story based on the Jin/Hwoarang couple. I consider this story AU because even though the storyline is based around the Tekken one (That being, Jin confronting Kazuya, Heihachi, etc) that does not necessarily mean that my story will be as canon as the game series.

Genre: (**IMPORTANT**) Being a yaoi, there will be scenes that will be regarded as homosexual and that aforementioned characters will act in that manner. That's why it's a **YAOI**. If you do not like Yaoi or AU fics, I suggest that you leave now. There will also be scenes of drug abuse, strong language, violence and emotional scenes. These are the reasons that I have given the story an M rating. However, if any of the readers are offended or concerned by any of the fic's contents, please do not be afraid to tell me :)

I really hope you enjoy my HwoaJin story "All In The Family" and I cannot wait to share the future chapters with you :)

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><p><em><strong><span>Chapter One: The Edge<span>**_

_"It's beautiful," Hwoarang said in a hushed tone, looking up at the moon._

_"It is okay," Jin answered, unimpressed. He turned slowly to face the Korean; little waves rolled away from his movement and broke against Hwoarang's skin. The Japanese youth's eyes looked ghostly in his calm face. He twisted his hand up so that he could twine their fingers together beneath the surface of the water. It was warm enough that his soft skin did not raise goosebumps on the Korean's paler skin. _

_"But I wouldn't use the word beautiful," he continued. "Not with you standing here in comparison."_

_Hwoarang half-smiled, then raised his free hand - it didn't tremble now like it did before - and placed it over Jin's heart. Jin shuddered the tiniest bit under his lover's warm touch. His breath came rougher now. __"I said we would try," Jin whispered, suddenly tense. "Wh-What if I do something wrong?" His eyes never lost contact with his lover's own. "If I hurt you, you must tell me at once."_

_The Korean nodded solemnly, keeping his eyes on Jin's. He took another step through the calm water and leaned his head against Jin's shoulder. "Don't be afraid," he murmured. "We belong together." He was abruptly overwhelmed by the truth of his own words. This moment was so prefect, so right, there was no way to doubt it._

_Jin's arm wrapped around the Blood Talon, holding the Korean against him. It felt like every nerve ending in his body was a live wire. "Forever," he agreed, and then pulled them both gently into deeper water. __"Until the end of the world..."_

Hwoarang squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his cheeks.

A year had passed since that fateful night. A year since the one person Hwoarang relied on to keep him chained to this Earth had disappeared. He was rumored dead, because surely if Jin were alive, he would have returned by now or at least made his presence known to the Korean. Hwoarang knew that Jin had felt the same way about him. At least...he thought he did. Wouldn't Jin have come for him sooner if he were alive?

The Blood Talon had been drowned so much by his grief and now he was too deep to be rescued by anything human; anything living. As long as his Jin was with him, Hwoarang could just about manage life without succumbing to suicide. Hwoarang had been hearing voices for a while, nearly all from Jin. Not the real Jin, obviously, but from what memories of his beautiful voice the Korean had collected and hugged tight to his chest.

The voices had been speaking to Hwoarang for a while now, ever since his sanity was at breaking point, which was almost straight away when he'd heard of Jin's death. They comforted him. Whispered things. Nobody ever said fantasy was a crime, right? It was a sight to behold for any stranger who happened to walk past the Korean on the street, hearing him mumbling to himself as he tugged at the hood of his jacket that concealed his face - hollow cheekbones and lifeless eyes weren't much to look at. He didn't want anybody to see what he had done to himself.

But after what seemed like an eternity, Hwoarang had conceded, admitting defeat to the entity of his dead lover. Which brought him to edge of that jagged cliffside. The waves picked up as the Blood Talon paced, beginning to crash against the rocks, but there was still no wind. Everything whirled around him, but it was prefectly still where the Blood Talon stood. Farther out on the phthalo blue landscape, the waves were angrier than they were closer to the mainland.

_**"Hwoarang,"** _a voice whispered.

The Korean smiled; just a tiny smile, but a smile all the same. _Yeah?_ He didn't answer out loud, for fear that the voice would be blown away with the wind. Jin sounded so real, so close. Hwoarang could feel the true memory of that voice - the velvet texture and the musical intonation that made up the most perfect of all voices.

**_"Don't do this."_**

_You expect me to carry on without you? I promised to be by your side for all eternity_, Hwoarang reminded him_. Now watch me keep that promise. _

**_"Please. For me."_**

_But I won't be with you any other way._

**_"Please." _**It was just a whisper in the blowing rain that tossed Hwoarang's hair and drenched his clothes - making him as wet as if this were his second jump of the day. It was not hard to convince himself that he didn't have time to search for another way - he _wanted_ to jump. This was the image that had lingered in his head for ages. A release. He would finally be with Jin forever. This was it. This was what the Korean had dreamed of for a year.

The Blood Talon stepped forward.

**_"No! Hwoarang!" _**Jin was angry now, and the anger was so lovely to the Korean.

Hwoarang smiled and walked closer to the edge. The rock cracked beneath his feet and a few small boulders of limestone broke away, falling to it's fate at the bottom of the cliff. It smashed into oblivion. Hwoarang swallowed, knowing that he was going to resemble that rock in a few seconds...just a lot more bloody and covered in red water. "See you soon, Jin."

Hwoarang flung himself off the cliff.

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><p>With what felt like a baseball bat to his skull, Hwoarang's head broke the surface.<p>

How disorienting. He'd been sure he was sinking.

The current wouldn't let up. It was slamming him against the rocks; they beat against his back sharply, rhythmically, pushing the water from his lungs. It gushed out in amazing volume, absolute torrents pouring from his mouth and nose. The salt made his lungs burn and his throat was too sore to take in any real breaths and the rocks were hurting his back. Somehow he stayed in one place, though the waves still heaved around him. Hwoarang couldn't see anything but water everywhere, reaching for his face.

"Come on, breathe!" a commanding voice ordered, wild with anxiety. That voice was so hauntingly familiar...

Hwoarang could not obey. The waterfall pouring from his mouth didn't stop long enough for him to catch a breath. The freezing cold water drowned his lungs, burning him from the inside out. The rock smacked into Hwoarang's back again, right between his shoulder blades, and another volley of water spewed out of the Korean's mouth.

"Breathe. Hwoarang, I am begging you. Please," the person whimpered.

Black spots swirled in the redhead's vision but his eyesight began to slowly regain composure. With one last splutter, Hwoarang's lungs were clear of the burning water and he groaned. Was he dying, then? He didn't like it - there was nothing interesting to see. No Jin. The sound of the crashing waves faded into the black and became a quiet, dragging lull that sounded like it was coming from the inside of the Blood Talon's ears.

With what little effort he had, Hwoarang sat up, rubbing his eyes and coughing, trying to ease the burning in his throat. The black spots began to fade as he blinked, trying to figure out where he was. The ground was soft and embracing beneath him, almost like sand. Looking around, but still in a daze, Hwoarang could only make out blurry grey shapes that were most likely the cliffs that surrounded the sea.

"Hwoarang?" A hand shook the redhead's shoulder gently. "Hwoa, baby, can you hear me?"

The Korean rubbed his eyes again and turned his squinting eyes to the blur that was speaking to him. Baby? Who was this guy? Nobody ever called him baby except for...Hwoarang stopped moving, his lips slightly parted, his eyes now wide, totally ignoring the stinging sensation that itched at him to close them again.

Jin Kazama gave a weak, hopeful smile and half-raised his arms.

Hwoarang was supposed to have felt a huge wave of relief wash over him. But this was not the case. It was the complete opposite. Completely forgetting that he was only semi-conscious, Hwoarang lunged forwards and started punching every inch of Jin that he could reach. "You - complete - _bastard _- Jin - Kazama!" He punctuated every word with a blow: Jin clambered backward, shielding his head with his forearms as Hwoarang advanced on his knees. "You - crawl - back - here - after - a - fucking - year - and..._where's my spur?_ I'll slice your fucking throat open!"

As a shiny appendage appeared in Hwoarang's trembling fist, Jin's eyes widened and he grabbed the arm that thrust toward him. "Hwoarang, calm down!" he yelled, snatching the spur out of the redhead's hand. He pocketed it, knowing that Hwoarang could not get to it at that moment in time.

"I will _not_ calm down!" Hwoarang hollered. Never before had Jin seen him lose control like this; he looked quite determined to get his revenge for Jin leaving him for all that time, when he was alive and breathing anyway! "Give me back my spur! Fucking give it back to me, you...you..._traitor!_"

Jin's eyes softened as that last word hit him like a lightning bolt sent from the hand of Thor. "Traitor...?"

"You're a fucking traitor, a deciever, a _deserter,_" Hwoarang snarled, standing up and losing his balance a little from his dizziness. "You left me! I was _this_ close," Hwoarang squeezed his thumb and index finger together, squinting in the bright light, "to killing myself! If you had come back, then I wouldn't have had to go through all that pain and suffering. There was no need for it anyway because you're fucking alive!" Hwoarang sang in sarcastic rejoice, throwing his hands up in the air. "You better have a good reson for being gone all this time, I'll tell you now..." he muttered, starting to pace.

Jin stood up in front of his lover, his hands coming to rest upon Hwoarang's shoulders. "Listen, Hwoa-"

Hwoarang shook them off with a snarl, running a hand through his wet hair. "Don't fucking touch me. You don't have the right or the authority."

"I wanted to come back sooner," Jin reasoned.

"You fucking liar," Hwoarang hissed. "I don't think that travelling back to Japan takes a fucking year. Why didn't you call me? I've been sending call after call after call to your cell phone and I-"

"Hwoarang, please!" Jin shouted, grabbing the Korean's collar, he pressed his lips to the Blood Talon's, inwardly smiling as the Korean ceased thrashing about in protest. Pulling away, he stared into the flaming depths that were his lover's eyes, noticing that the pupils were very dilated. "I am so sorry about not coming home sooner. I truly am. But if you just came with me so that I - we - can go back to Japan, I will tell you everything. As long as you tell me your story. Okay?"

The Blood Talon was conflicted. One half of his brain was telling him to beat the betraying asshole to death, whereas the other half was asking for more of what he had just gotten bestowed upon him. Hwoarang could still taste Jin's flavour on his lips as he stared at his adversary. He slowly nodded and, not even sure why he did it himself, reached out to take Jin's hand in his own.

"I'll tell you everything," Jin promised as they made their way up the hill whereby Jin's car sat patiently for his return.

"You'd better, Kazama," Hwoarang warned. "I'll tell you how golden my life was too while you were gone."

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><p>My first chapter. I think it went really well, don't you? :)<p> 


	2. The Confession

Author's Note: Thank you for the interest :)

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><p><em><strong><span>Chapter Two: The Confession<span>**_

Jin slammed his foot on the brakes, ignoring the angered yells and frustrated hollers of the drivers behind him. He pulled up onto the side of the road and threw the door open, advancing out into the open, grassy Japanese plain as disturbing thoughts consumed his mind. "You are a what?" he asked incredulously, waving his hands in the air as if that would somehow answer his question.

"Will you just relax?" the Korean asked, getting out of the car with haste, walking off after the pacing youth before him.

Jin abruptly turned. The anger and confusion he felt towards Hwoarang was etched in every facial feature. "Relax? You've just told me that you are a hitman, and you're saying _relax_?" Kazama threw a hand up to his brow, rubbing it in frustration. "You murder people for a living and you want me to-"

"Hey, shut the fuck up a second!" Hwoarang yelled, stopping the Japanese man in his tracks. "Someone killed your grandfather a year ago, remember? Heihachi took a swan dive outta that temple window, am I right?" He seemed to have stumped Jin, as the latter was now staring away from Hwoarang, far off into the trees and bracken that bordered the road that they stood next to. "I'm your boyfriend - So how come I don't get the fucking benefit of the doubt?"

Jin's cold eyes met Hwoarang's fiery ones. "You are my boyfriend, hmm? You did not really back that conclusion up at the beach."

"Er...I mean-"

The Blood Talon's eyes narrowed and he turned slightly, shamefaced. He stared at Jin through piercing slits as he continued. "Slip of the tongue. I dunno if you remember, but the last person you stood in judgement on was Kazuya, blaming him for the death of your mother; and you felt pretty shitty about it right away. Now I'm owning up to this in good faith, 'cause you promised to tell me your story in return." He turned back to Jin. "So are you going to get back in the car and hear the rest of it, or are you gonna be an asshole to me, too?" Hwoarang began walking back.

Jin's eyes narrowed, but he conceded, walking back to the car where the Korean was sat waiting for him. Starting the engine, he pulled off. "You always told me that you hated guns."

"Not quite true," Hwoarang replied, opening the window and lighting a cigarette. "I...Well, I grew up around guns. I got pretty good at shooting, but that doesn't mean that I ever really liked them." He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the blue fumes out through his nose. "Look, I don't wanna talk about it, okay? It's not important to what I have to tell you. So when you dumped me during the third tournament - and don't look at me like that because you _know_ you dumped me - I was kinda stuck for somewhere to go..."

Jin's eyes flickered sideways to see Hwoarang with his head tipped back against the seat, his cigarette hand dangling lax out of the window. Jin was thankful that Hwoarang had opened the window to get rid of the cigarette fumes, because even though he had been around the Korean plenty of times beforehead while he was smoking, the car was very compact. The fumes could have stung Jin's eyes and may have caused a serious accident.

"I lasted one night in this charming place midst the clubbing district in the city," Hwoarang snorted, which told Jin that the redhead was being sarcastic about the club being at all charming. "But I got fired for upsetting the customers. After what _you'd_ done to me, it turned me off relationships for quite some time."

"I can see how it might," Jin muttered, his thick eyebrows arching angrily as he imagined all of the filthy drunkards who had tried to touch what was his. Hwoarang was _his_. Nobody elses. "Until the end of-"

"Don't you fucking _dare_ say that to me!" Hwoarang shouted, his eyes narrowed, angry and hurt. Jin had uttered those words to Hwoarang over half a year ago but they must have still stuck with him. Jin didn't know that they actually meant so much to the redhead.

The Japanese youth blinked and found it hard to break his gaze away from those irresistable eyes. The emotions that nested in the core of those sienna orbs had finally broke out and thrown themselves at Kazama with as much force as there was feeling. Hwoarang had been so angry, so betrayed, when Jin had died, that the Blood Talon actually found himself pissed off with Jin for disappearing. For leaving Hwoarang alone in this world. In this cruel, cruel world.

The emotion that came from Hwoarang made Jin sick to his stomach. It was because there was too much anguish in those eyes. "Sorry," Jin murmured.

* * *

><p>Silence had ensued since Jin had apologised, so it had obviously not settled what had upsetted Hwoarang so much. Every now and again, Jin took nervous glances towards the Korean, but saw the same thing every time: Hwoarang, with his head in his palm, and on occasion, mouthing obscenities to himself. Jin changed gear and once they were on a straight road, he spoke. "Come on, Hwoarang, you have not said a word in two hours. We are nearly in Tokyo now." When Hwoarang didn't respond, Jin sighed. "I am sorry, okay? Really."<p>

"I just can't believe you've got the nerve to say that to me," the Blood Talon muttered, still staring out at the blurring scenery.

"Yeah, well. We assholes have got a nerve to spare," Jin said.

Hwoarang continued, quite reluctantly, but knew that the only way to hear Jin's excuse for leaving him was to tell his own story. "I drifted around for a couple of months, and finally ended up in Korea. I guess I wasn't too nice a person to be with. Not even my gang really acknowledged me until we were in the alley, which by then, we had to communicate to forge fights. But I let all my anger and frustration loose on Dae-Jung, the leader of the gang since my absence...and I killed him.

"I guess that my anger towards you leaving me hadn't simmered, as much as I tried to tell myself. I was booted outta the gang after having some serious shit kicked outta me for killing Dae-Jung. I was in too much of a daze to give a rat's ass, to be honest. I got back to Japan, knowing that my gang would track me down if I stayed in South Korea. The jobs I had were lousy, and I couldn't hold onto friends for too long. I began drinking quite a bit."

It was a shock to Jin when he glanced over to see Hwoarang wiping his eyes. Clearly, re-telling his story was hard for him. But he still told it. Jin respected him for that. "It's horrible how attractive it can get to keep yourself miserable that way, you know? Just pouring the self-pity and depression down with the Vodka, starting again in the morning 'cause you've got a perfect right to, it's all somebody else's fault..."

"It was."

"_Uh-uh_. I used you up as an excuse pretty early on," Hwoarang stated, lighting up his fourth cigarette of that hour. "Eventually, I had my little scare: every drinker gets them, it's whether you're smart enough to notice that counts." Hwoarang stared back out of the window. "I pissed blood."

Jin winced. "Jesus, Hwoa-!"

"I'd gotten pretty bad. That's why I felt so lousy. You'll never see me drink that much twice. Believe me."

There was an awkward silence lingering between them. Jin was speechless. If he had known about Hwoarang's breakdown beforehand, maybe from Xiaoyu's e-mails - because Jin knew that Xiaoyu had been close to Hwoarang when at the third tournament and she would have visited him, surely - that the Korean was in a bad way. Xiaoyu had written in one e-mail that Hwoarang was feeling under the weather and that he was not really as spirited as he usually was, but Jin, thought that Hwoarang must have just been ill. He knew that the redhead was prone to illness. That was one of the reasons that the Blood Talon was so pale.

Hwoarang lifted his head up from his hunched position and sat back against the seat once again, cracking his neck. It had been twisted for the past three hours or so and it was beginning to ache. "I borrowed some money off a club-owner I knew. I checked into a hospital for a month or two, cleaned myself up. The club owner was an absolute bastard called Macavoy - fucking American sleazeball, said he was a made man, but that was bullshit. Local hood.

"Once he knew there was no way I was gonna fuck him - yeah, he was gay - to pay the debt, he turned nasty."

_"So how the fuck do I get my money back, huh? Gonna end up back in the hospital, you think you're too good for me!" Macavoy grunted, stubbing out his cigar._

_"I can work," Hwoarang jaded, arms crossed._

_"You can work!" Macavoy scoffed, unconvinced. "I've got all the hustlers and barmen I ever need! Only kinda' thing I got going ain't the kind for some goddamn little _boy_."_

_Hwoarang cast him a dark smirk. "Try me."_

_"Hits," Macavoy remarked, eyes narrowed._

Hwoarang bit his lip and threw his dog end out of the window. "Well, I stood there...and I thought about all the shitty things that'd happened to me...and how I was _never_ gonna be a victim again...And I thought I could turn all that anger into whatever it was you needed to kill another human being." For the first time during the road trip, the Blood Talon turned to Jin, his eyes troubled and distant. "And I suppose the Hwoarang you used to know sort of...went away for a while."

_"You're gonna be a shooter! You're gonna whack fellas for me! Hwoarang Seung-Kim, ice cold killer!" Macavoy snickered. "Get the fuck outta here!"_

_Something seemed to shift within Hwoarang. Something sinister began to creep into his voice as he spoke. He grabbed Macavoy by his clammy collar and lifted him up to meet the Korean's empty eyes. "Why don't we go down to that pistol range you've got out back and I'll show you shooting you've never dreamed of, fat guy?"_

"No man resists a challenge like that from ickle pwetty boy," Hwoarang snarled.

_Eight shots fired, eight shots hit. Eight shots right in the centre circle of the target. Hwoarang grinned. _

_Macavoy was stunned and impressed - his cigar had fallen from his mouth and had landed by his feet. "You're hired."_

"The first hit was a guy, oh, I can't remember the reason for it. Some crap to do with turf."

_"All his boys are packin', so you put 'em all down before they get in the car then pop two in his head and move your ass. Got it?"_

Hwoarang turned his head again and rested his arm on the window frame, the wind blowing a cool breeze through his hair which seemed to relax him a little. "I guess the old Hwoarang hadn't gone too far after all. I mean, once I actually saw him, I _knew _I could never had done it. D'you know why?"

Jin stared at the petrol meter; nearly in the red. The car needed gas very soon. He turned to the redhead. "Why?"

Hwoarang refused to look at Jin when he answered. "Because he looked like you."

The Japanese youth smiled, but then felt a huge wave of guilt wash over him like a tidal, and it dragged him down to how Hwoarang was feeling at that moment. "Oh."

"I screwed up spectacularly. It was while I was running that I ran into that Macavoy asshole."

"Macavoy, hmm? So what is he up to now?"

"He still wants his money back."

**"Well, the hell with him,"** Jin retorted, eyes darkening, knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. **"We'll go see that son of a bitch first thing we drive past Nagano. We are near there anyway. I'm gonna tell him to stick his money where the sun don't shine. If he gives me any trouble, he will find himself doing it himself. Every penny."**

Hwoarang looked over to him and blinked. "Jin?" When he got no answer, he punched Jin's shoulder. "JIN!"

Kazama blinked rapidly, pupils dilating to their normal size, he let out a breath and stared at Hwoarang. "I am sorry."

"Hey, Jin?" Hwoarang asked, staring down at his trembling hands. His recollection of memoires had obviously hit a soft spot within the Korean.

"Yes?" he answered, looking at his friend through tired eyes.

The Blood Talon's eyes cast sideways to the man sat next to him, and he smiled. "Thanks." Jin smiled back. "But then it's your turn in the confessional, okay?"

Jin noticed a gas station up ahead. "Okay."

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><p>It was eerily quiet as the two youths got out of the car, staring up at the bland building that stood isolated between the lights of the city and the dark alleys of the run down suburbs. This was not the most comfortable of places to be in for Jin, but Hwoarang just saw it as another building. But this district was very normal for the Korean because he grew up in this kind of environment.<p>

Jin, on the other hand, came from a completely different upbringing. Before his mother had been killed at the hand of Ogre, Jin thrived in the forests and natural life of Yakushima, a small island off the coast of Japan. But at fifteen, he was taken in by his grandfather, Heihachi Mishima, and was fed and trained the art of Mishima Style Martial Arts. Jin had been so thankful to Heihachi at first, but he began to be suspicous of his grandfather, thinking that Heihachi's kindness was all part of a plan. What that plan was, Jin had no idea, until the King of Iron Fist Tournament Three began, when he was nineteen.

"This is really good of you, you know," Hwoarang complimented. "It must be a shock to know that I nearly killed someone."

"Yeah, but like you said, I am not exactly a regular man either," Jin replied.

Hwoarang raised an eyebrow as they walked towards Macavoy's headquarters. "You're not regular? What do you mean?"

"I will say later when I tell you my story," Jin said monotonously, his mouth a straight line, eyes to the front.

"Holy shit, is that who I think it is?" a voice whispered hoarsely to the left of them. Hwoarang turned to the one of the two men and narrowed his eyes. The one who spoke was called Aito and the other was called Akatsuki. Hwoarang disliked them when he first hung out with them months before. They saw him as different because he was Korean. They insulted him in Japanese but what they didn't know was that the Blood Talon knew a smattering of the language and could understand them. When he was working for Macavoy, Hwoarang had lost it kicked the living shit out of the both of them. Hwoarang raised his middle finger as he and Jin walked through the entrance.

Before them, a man sat behind a desk, a pornography magazine in his hands. "We're closed. Mr. Macavoy ain't seeing nobody," he snapped, not looking up.

"He'll see me," Hwoarang said, smirking.

The man turned and smiled. He was obviously the only one who got along with Hwoarang. "Blood Talon...!"

* * *

><p>"Hell you bring the black-haired kid for? You joined the fucking mormons or something?" Macavoy spat. Behind him, two burly men stood either side of the large leather chair, one guarding the door that led to the dingy office. Most likely some kind of security guards in case someone tried to take a shot at the fat bastard.<p>

"Would you just listen for a minute? Please?" Hwoarang asked, hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry I screwed up the job and I'm sorry I don't have your money yet. But if ya can give me a little more time-"

"Fuck I wanna do that for?" the American snarled, putting his cigar to his lips.

Jin's hands slammed down on the desk and the three men braced themselves, cocking their guns.**"Because otherwise you'll be in for a world of hurt for the rest of your miserable insignificant life."**

Macavoy smirked and waved at his men to lower their guard. "And here I am thinking I got my three boys to just you and the ginger, boy. Comes as a shock that you had us outgunned all along," he snickered. "Tie Seung-Kim up. Take this cocksucker downstairs and break his goddamn neck," Macavoy ordered as one of his henchmen grabbed Hwoarang's arms and held them behind him, and the Korean's eyes widened.

Outside, at the desk, Hwoarang's friend sensed another person in the entrance. Again, he didn't look up from his magazine. "We're closed. Mr Macavoy ain't seeing nobody." The person he had spoken to silently put a pistol to his forehead. "You still here?"

**"You assholes get-"**

_BADAM!_

"What the fuck was that?"

The door burst open, and a man flew into the room, smashing the gangster who had Hwoarang in an armlock into the wall, rendering him unconscious. His face wore a smirk as he sent two bullets shooting through the air and into the foreheads of the two other henchmen. The shooter was clearly old, but less than fifty. His body was muscular and his face was aged and his eyes showed signs of knowledge and understanding, like he had been through many wars and could remember each face of every soldier - dead or alive.

Jin's eyes widened as he turned to face the figure looming in the doorway, gun still smoking. "Kazuya?"

The youngest Mishima smirked. "It has been a long time, Jin."

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><p>AN: When Jin's speech is in **bold**, that is his gene taking him over, if you get confuzzled. And yes, I know that Jin doesn't know who his father is until the fourth tourney. But like I said in the first chapter, this is not following the storyline exactly. Also, who knew that Kazuya could/would use a gun? XD


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